I knew I liked her then, really liked her, this girl with an explanation for everything.
Gillian FlynnI don’t feel the need to explain my actions to her. I don’t clarify, I don’t doubt, I don’t worry. I
don’t tell her everything, not anymore, but I tell her more than anyone else, by far. I tell her as much as I can.
but fact is, it’s been years since I even really liked someone. So how likely is it I’ll meet someone I love, much less someone I love enough to marry? I’m tired of not knowing who I’ll be with, or if I’ll be with anyone.
Gillian FlynnThey’re baffled by my singleness. A smart, pretty, nice girl like me, a girl with so many interests and enthusiasms, a cool job, a loving family. And
let’s say it: money. They knit their eyebrows and pretend to think of men they can set me up with, but we all know there’s no one left, no one good
left, and I know that they secretly think there’s something wrong with me, something hidden away that makes me unsatisfiable, unsatisfying.
The ones who are not soul-mated – the ones who have settled – are even more dismissive of my singleness: It’s not that hard to find someone to
marry, they say. No relationship is perfect, they say – they, who make do with dutiful sex and gassy bedtime rituals, who settle for TV as
conversation, who believe that husbandly capitulation – yes, honey, okay, honey – is the same as concord. He’s doing what you tell him to do
because he doesn’t care enough to argue, I think. Your petty demands simply make him feel superior, or resentful, and someday he will fuck his
pretty, young coworker who asks nothing of him, and you will actually be shocked. Give me a man with a little fight in him, a man who calls me on
my bullshit. (But who also kind of likes my bullshit.) And yet: Don’t land me in one of those relationships where we’re always pecking at each other,
disguising insults as jokes, rolling our eyes and ‘playfully’ scrapping in front of our friends, hoping to lure them to our side of an argument they could
not care less about. Those awful if only relationships: This marriage would be great if only … and you sense the if only list is a lot longer than either
of them realizes.
I like to think I am confident and secure and mature enough to know Nick loves me without him constantly proving it. I don’t need pathetic dancing monkey
scenarios to repeat to my friends, I am content with letting him be himself.
I don’t know why women find that so hard.
I've always found my wife a bit dazzling, in the purest sense of the word: to lose clear vision, especially from looking at bright light. It was enough to be near her and hear her talk, it didn't always matter what she was saying. It should have, but it didn't.
Gillian FlynnRemember that game you always played with Mom when we were little: Would you still love me if? Would you still love me if I smacked Go? Would you still love me if I robbed a bank? Would you still love me if I killed someone?'
I said nothing. My breath was coming too fast.
'I would still love you,' Go said.
'Go, do you really need me to say it?'
She stayed silent.
'I did not kill Amy.'
She stayed silent.
'Do you believe me?' I asked.
'I love you.
I was the embodiment of every writer's worst fear: a cliché.
Gillian FlynnI was raised feral, and I mostly stayed that way.
Gillian FlynnMots clés children born upbringing wild raised
Love should require both partners to be very best at all times.
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